


Once Upon a Time

by JediC8H10N4O2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediC8H10N4O2/pseuds/JediC8H10N4O2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a boy with a lightning bolt scar and vivid green eyes.<br/>Once upon a time there were four boys.<br/>Once upon a time there were two sisters and a boy.<br/>Once upon a time there was a boy in an orphanage.<br/>Once upon a time there was a boy and his brother and sister and lover.</p><p>Once upon a time there were five stories.<br/>Except for the fact there was only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Time

"Tell me a story Mum."

"Tell me a story Dad."

Children ask their parents to tell them a story. Of adventure, of magic, of castles, of dragons. Of triumph. Of heroes and villains.

In the wizarding world, they ask for the story of Harry Potter. And so the parents tell it, tell the story of the Harry Potter they went to school with.

* * *

Once upon a time on an island in the sea, in a magical castle, in the tallest tower, lived a young boy. This boy was a hero, and brave and bold. When he had been younger, he had faced an evil wizard, and temporarily defeated him. But for now, he was studying magic in the castle. He learned the evil wizard was searching for an item, an item that had been hidden inside the castle.

And the boy hero knew he had to protect the item, prevent the evil wizard from finding it. And so he faced the dangerous tasks protecting the item, for he knew that nothing could stop the evil wizard but he himself, and faced the evil wizard down in battle. The boy hero versus the shade of the evil wizard. The shade was no match for the boy hero, not then. The shade escaped, cursing the name of the boy hero who defied him whenever they met.

The shade was not content to lose, and so returned the very next year. This time, he released a murderous beast, determined to kill everyone born to non magical families. And for a little while, the castle thought that the boy hero might have done it, for the boy hero had been gifted a terrible gift, the ability to speak to snakes. He had that ability because in order to properly fight the evil wizard, the boy hero had to be his equal and the evil wizard had that gift as well. But the castle realized that the boy hero was truly heroic and could never have loosed a murderous beast on innocents. And when the evil wizard, tired of being stopped at every corner by the boy wizard, kidnapped an innocent maid with vivid red hair and taunted the boy hero with her death the boy hero didn't back down, did not even stop to consider the consequences of going. For he knew the consequences of not going would be far worse, and he was the boy hero. And so they faced each other, the shade and his murderous beast, and the boy hero with his companion of fire and light, and they dueled. And the fire bird swooped, and weaved and danced and the boy hero saved the day and defeated the beast and stopped the shade and saved the girl. And the shade retreated to heal its wounds.

And while the shade licked its wounds, the boy hero continued to be brave and bold. He faced down the right hand man of the evil wizard, and fought off a horde of chilling demons. He entered a tournament meant for adults, and took on the most challenging dragon. He saved his best friend, and a girl he knew nothing about from drowning in a lake.

But the shade returned, and in the boy hero's weakest moment killed a fellow student to prove he had returned to his previous power. And so the boy hero faced not a shade, but the evil wizard in physical form. And they dueled each other to a stand still, and the boy hero escaped and warned the world the evil wizard was back. But so few listened.

That did not stop the boy hero, or the evil wizard. The boy hero prepared for the inevitable confrontation. He practiced magic, taught himself and others to defend themselves. He waited, ignoring the people who insulted and disbelieved him, for the evil wizard to ultimately attack again. The boy hero did not need massive support. He knew that he had to protect the world from the evil wizard, even if the world was unwilling to admit that the evil wizard had returned. And so the boy hero was there when the evil wizard appeared, placed himself between the world and the evil wizard when otherwise the world would have fallen. They dueled, and it seemed as if the boy hero might lose, but at the last minute the wise old man who ran the castle appeared and saved him.

The boy hero approached the wise old man, and asked for lessons. The boy hero needed to defeat the evil wizard, and had only been able to prevent the evil wizard from ruining the world. He needed to stop the evil wizard for good, and the wise old man would be able to teach him what he needed to know. And so the wise old man taught the boy hero everything he needed to know. And with his dying breath, the wise old man whispered the secret to defeating the evil wizard in the ear of the boy hero.

And the boy hero went on a journey, a quest, to find the tools to finally defeat the evil wizard. It was hard, for the evil wizard had managed to infiltrate the government and the castle, but the boy hero did not give up. The boy hero could not be swayed from his path. And at the end of the quest, the two faced each other. And the boy hero sacrificed himself to save the world.

But he was sent back, allowed to return. For the boy hero's act of sacrifice had been deemed worthy, and he had been judged heroic, and his gift for being worthy and heroic was the ability to strike down the evil wizard for the last time, and continue to live and protect the world he would have died for. He returned to cheers, and finally defeated the evil wizard.

And he married the red haired maiden, and lived happily ever after.

* * *

But that is not the whole story of Harry Potter. It's not how it begins. It isn't the tale his true friends tell, not completely. Not really. It isn't even the story he would tell, when he tucks his children in. When his godson asks about his life. The story itself is much more complicated.

The real story is about the boy growing up.

* * *

Once upon a time on an island in the sea, in a suburb of a city, on a well off street in a nice two story house, a young boy lived in a small broom cupboard under a flight of stairs. He was small and pale. He was raised by his mean aunt and uncle to do all the menial labor they hated, and bullied by his cousin when his cousin had nothing else to do. All he had to his name, once he discovered that, was a lightning bolt scar on his forehead and vivid green eyes that no one could glance away from.

He didn't know it, but he was a hero.

On his eleventh birthday, despite his aunt and uncle's attempts to prevent it, the young boy learned that he was a wizard. A wizard, with access to magic, to money. He learned that his parents were not the drunken fools his relatives had claimed.

And from his newest, and at the time only, friend, he began to learn how his story really began.

* * *

Once upon a time on an island in the sea, in a quaint little town, on a quiet little street in a nice small house, a young baby lived with his parents. He had bright green eyes from his mother, but otherwise looked like his father had as a baby. His mother and father loved him, but were forced to take him into hiding.

There was an evil, mean wizard at large in the world, and for some reason he wanted this small family dead. They managed to hide for awhile, evade him, but their luck ran out. The evil wizard found the quaint little village, the quiet street, the nice small house, and on the night when the barriers between the dead and the living are at their weakest, he struck. He killed the father and the mother, but for some reason, could not kill their young child. Instead, he disappeared from the world.

Some say he had been vanquished forever. Others thought he had merely disappeared for a time. Everyone agreed on one thing.

That small little baby who had just lost his parents saved the entire world from the evil wizard.

* * *

And so he was a hero.

And he went to school to learn magic, knowing he was a hero and not really understanding why. After all, the boy had merely survived.

But that was not what made him a hero.

He was a hero to the youngest son of a poor family because he was willing to listen to him, to talk to him, but most importantly, defend him against others even when the boy did not truly know him yet. He became a hero to a smart young girl when he raced into a girl's bathroom and placed himself in harm's way just to save a girl he hardly knew, and who had previously been barely tolerated.

That is what made him a hero. But that part of his story never got told. Not really.

People assumed his story began the night of his parent's murder. Students were beginning to believe that his story was merely his time in Hogwarts. But in the boy's third year, he learned his story started out earlier.

* * *

Once upon a time, on an island in the sea, in a rural country area, in a big giant castle, in a tower, lived three boys. They were best of friends, pranksters, jokesters. Two of them were closer than brothers. One was from a family with a dark past, the white sheep in a family of Blacks. The other was born to two loving, if elderly, parents, raised with light ideals and morals. Everyone was surprised that the boy from the dark family was as light as he was. The third boy, in light of that relationship, appeared to be more of a hanger on.

They had all been friends from first year on, through good years and bad, and everyone had thought that it would have lasted through the war as well. But one of them fell, to greed and promises of power. And when he went, he took the other two with him. For the boy raised with light ideals had begun a family and entrusted his best friend, his brother in all but blood, his brother who fell to greed and the power of his own family history, with the safety of that family.

And he was betrayed. He was killed first, and his wife was killed in front of their young son when the secret of their location was given up to the evil wizard who was searching for them. Through luck and Fate their son lived, but the third friend, mad with grief, chased after the one who had betrayed them. He railed, condemned the boy turned man for what he did. And in return, the man, mad with loss since his new master was gone and he had declared his true intentions to the world prematurely, killed not only him, but thirteen others with a flick of the wand.

And with the destruction of the last link to his past, he snapped. And began to laugh.

* * *

And so the boy learned of betrayal. He learned of twenty/twenty hindsight. He learned of anger. He learned what it felt like to thirst for revenge. And then he learned of mistakes.

The story he learned was a little bit wrong.

* * *

Once upon a time, on an island in the sea, near a small wizarding home on a night lit by the full moon, there was a single boy who lived with his father and his mother. And this young boy was cursed by a monster in the light of the full moon, to turn into a monster himself every time the full moon graced the night sky. And the parents of this young boy wept, for no one in the wizarding world would accept a monster, and so the child's life was over before it even began.

But a wise old man came to visit, and promised the small, devastated family that he would help. That the young boy, who had done nothing at all to deserve the looks and fear he would get if his curse was well known, would be able to learn magic as was his right. And the young boy looked forward, even if he was hesitant, to the day he began school.

And when he came to the school, he found three other boys who he became close friends to. And they were more boisterous, and more sure of themselves in areas that he was not while he was more studious and happy in ways that maybe the others weren't. And he could pretend to be a normal boy, ignoring his curse for all but three days of the month. And he relished in the feeling, and feared the day it would end. However, the group of four had became so close that when they learned of the curse of the boy, they did not run in fear. They did not spurn him, nor did they tease or taunt him. Instead, they learned a magical working, dangerous at any age, and performed it so they would be able to join him and try to make his worst night a happy time.

And for a time, it worked. There were good times and bad, and sometimes the bad was nearly catastrophic. The boy from the darkest family once, without thinking the way that boys are sometimes known to do, attempted a trick on another student that could have proven fatal if not for the fact that the boy of light ideals saved the other student. And it took time for everyone involved to heal from the breaks and cracks that caused in their friendship and trust. And for some, it did not ever become what it once was.

But during all this was a backdrop of war, and war is not a friendly thing. The bonds made in school were tested in the real world when they began to fight. And some of the bonds were not as strong as they should have been. The boy turned man raised in light ideals believed in all his friends equally, if not in his best friend slightly more. The boy turned man from the darkest family began to doubt his cursed friend, for others like the cursed one had joined the opposing side. The cursed one doubted the man from the darkest family, for his family was on the other side. And the last one, the quietest one, the least noticed and perhaps not powerful one, he fell to promises of power, and to greed. And so bad decisions were made with the best of intentions, and the man from the darkest family pretended he held the secret to the location of the man with light morals' family while the true secret keeper was disloyal.

And the evil wizard searching for the man raised light and his family found and killed the man and his wife, but not their young son, and disappeared. The man from the darkest family was too late to save them, too late to realize who was the true rat, and so in grief went forth to find the betrayer. When he cornered him, on a street full of innocents, he was taken for surprise when the quiet one spoke quickly, blamed everything on him, and faked his own death.

And everything came crashing down on the man from the darkest family who had just lost the only family he cared about, and all he could do was laugh.

And the cursed boy became a lonely man, who believed he was well and truly cursed. He thought he had discovered that anyone he ever cared for would be destroyed. He decided it was best for everyone if he disappeared.

Until he needed to protect all that was left of the good memories of his school days.

* * *

And now the boy had learned of friendship. Of stupidity, of grudges. He learned of the ugly facts of life, that friendship is not always enough. That some people want more. He learned of assumptions, the danger they cause. The youngest son of the poor family learned these lessons beside him, the hard way.

And that, he thought, was how his story began.

Until he learned again.

* * *

Once upon a time, on an island in the sea, with an elderly witch and an elderly wizard lived a young boy. He was spoiled, although taught morals. He was loved, and played pranks. He was given what he wanted, and assumed it meant that he would always get it. He was unafraid, for he had not learned to fear.

And he went to a school to learn magic, where he ran rampant. He had a group of friends, with whom he was close, and with whom he was nice. But he had a wild side that was often either hard to reel in, or ignored. And so he could be cruel when trying to prank, and did not care enough about others to realize the effect it had on them. He justified it when asked, with reasons more ridiculous as time went on. When it looked as if he would never change, he did.

What he had done did not go away. It was not necessarily excusable, and was down right horrid at times, but he realized he could not believe in what he believed, and act the way he did. He toned down. He was spoiled, and had never been taught consequences, but he was beginning to discover them on his own. There was a war, and he heard the stories of what happened, what went on. And he heard a few in his own house mention that some of what happened was like a more intense version of what he did to certain students.

And he was horrified. Because he was not evil. He was not awful. He was not dark. He wasn't. His parents raised him right, in the light. But his brother in all but blood played a joke that wasn't funny and could have lead to serious consequences if he hadn't stepped in, and he knew. He knew he would have thought it funny if he wasn't already questioning his life. And it could have lead to two deaths, one of which was a friend, and he was not a killer. Only the darkest of wizards found killing amusing.

So he grew up. He tried to learn when the correct time and place for a joke was, what a good joke would be. He tried to be responsible. He wanted to help protect people.

He didn't change completely, because some of what he was was so deeply ingrained he could not remove it, but he did learn how to be responsible. He learned of consequences. He learned, and grew, and matured.

And in doing that, he caught the eye of the girl he had been unsuccessfully, and kind of creepily, wooing for most of his years. The jerk he had been had not impressed her, but the young man he was becoming did.

And with war on their minds and love in their hearts, when they graduated school they began a family.

And an evil wizard targeted them, and they trusted the wrong person, and left their only son to grow up with his mother's sister.

* * *

The boy learned of change. He learned of the tendency for people to forget the worse aspects of the dead, and highlight the best. He learned that people can grow. A bully can change. What the bully did cannot be undone, but the bully is not forced to walk down the road of bullydom if they decide they do not want to.

And this was his story. This was how he came to be. From a father who grew into a person his mother loved, he was born. From a broken bond of friendship, he became a savior. From an unloved childhood, he learned resilience. For the youngest son of a poor family and the smartest girl in his house he became a hero. For the students of his school, a legendary rumor. For his teachers, an average student. That was his story.

Until it wasn't.

* * *

Once upon a time, on an island in the sea, in an older version of an urban city, at the doors of an orphanage in the darkest month of the year was born a young boy. His mother lived long enough to name him, and he was brought up in the place of his birth.

He knew from a young age he was intrinsically different. And from a young age, so did all the other children. And when the taunts and fights and tormenting became too much, the young boy struck out. He made everyone who hurt him hurt, and he enjoyed it.

He did not learn the morals of the boy raised in light, or he ignored them. All he could think of was wanting to be the most powerful, so that he would never be weak again. And so when he discovered that he was magical, he knew both what made him special among the children, and that he was no longer special. He decided to learn everything, to become special and powerful even among those for whom this idea of magic was no longer a novelty but a way of life. But the most important thing he ever learned, was to hate.

And hate he did. He hated his family, the muggle father who never acknowledged him, who spurned the love of his mother. He hated his witch mother, who fed potions to a muggle for something as frivolous as 'true love'. He hated his wizard uncle, who had no aspersions to greatness and was content with complaining about his lot. He hated all but his most ancient of ancestors, and decided he would continue what the (second) greatest of his line had wanted. The destruction of those born from families with no magic. It was revenge on his muggle roots. It was revenge on his wizarding family. He would do what they could not, would not. He would rule over a world of only the pure.

And he would never die.

And so he searched and delved into the darkest of magics. He began to submerge so deep in rituals to boost his power, to keep him alive, that he changed. He was no longer wholly human. He was no longer wholly sane.

And at the peak of his power came a prophecy of his defeat and death. And so he sought to end the only threat to his future reign he could see. A threat that came from a child with a parentage just like him. Because if he could become himself, so to could someone else like him. And in so doing, made the prophecy begin to come to pass. He was banished for ten years, waiting to build up his power, for someone to seek him out. For he had not yet been beaten, even if he had also not yet won.

And he was now back, and beginning to regain his power and prestige. People were afraid of him again, and he threw the wizarding world into darkness while he waited to kill the only threat to him.

* * *

That, the boy thought, must be the entire story. After all, now he had the reason why his family had been targeted. It was the story of his life, up to now, and it was still ongoing. He was the last hope of many, the enemy of the dark. Full circle now, from orphan to family to orphan. Two enemies, from two different eras, raised similarly and yet different.

But then the wise old man was murdered, and everything went to hell. But his part in the increasingly long story of the boy was discovered.

* * *

Once upon a time, on an island in the sea, in a quaint town, on a quiet street, in a little house, lived two boys and a girl with their father and mother. The poor girl, born with and living in a family full of magic, accidentally showed those who were not meant to see the magic she could do. And out of fear, they attacked, and she was never the same. And out of retaliation, her father attacked, and was imprisoned.

And the eldest boy, began to resent his life. For his sister needed constant care, and could not be the witch she was meant to be. For his father had ruined their name by retaliating against those who could not fight back. For his mother, who relied on him to be the man of the house.

The eldest boy was brilliant. Charismatic. And wanted power and prestige. He had high goals, glorious ideas. And then his mother died, and he was forced to take care of his damaged sister. And deal with his brother who accused him (perhaps rightfully, perhaps not, and that was one of the things that killed him inside) of loving their sister less because she could not be what he wanted her to be. Of wanting fame and fortune, and only staying because he felt if he did otherwise it would reflect badly on him.

The elder boy chafed at his restricted world, stuck with a sister who needed constant care and unable to begin his lofty goals. And he met a boy. A boy whose mind and power matched his own. A boy who had far more charisma than he did. A boy he loved. And they commiserated, and blamed the boys who hurt his sister, and proclaimed their superiority over them. They plotted and planned, and the elder boy began to ignore his duties, now that he had something he viewed more worthy of his time.

His brother called him out, and there was a fight. And his younger sister, who was kind and pretty even if she could not control her magic, did not want her brothers fighting. It scared her. And she went to stop them when the brother faced the potential lover and the eldest tried to resolve everything. And when it was all over,

she was dead.

The boy he once loved left, his brother abandoned him, and he was left to wonder. Who had killed the sister that he actually had loved. Him? His love? His brother? He had learned. He could not have power. Power corrupted, power could corrupt him.

He watched his love become who he could have been, and wage a war he would have supported once upon a time. He waited too long to react. Instead, he promised it would never happen again. Which is why he watched the young boy from an orphanage who knew nothing of magic. Because the young boy reminded him of his love, and himself, in all the wrong ways. And look where that landed everyone?

And when his worst fears came to pass, he worked earlier to stop it. He was more active. He started a vigilante group. He worked to make sure that people did not feel as if they needed to go to the evil wizard. And he watched as a generation grew up to join his group, and fight. He watched them stand defiant. He watched them laugh and cry and fall and rise.

He watched them die.

And he heard a prophecy that he would have ignored if not for the fact that it had been heard by someone who would tell the evil wizard, and he tried to protect everyone like he couldn't (didn't) his sister.

And the evil wizard killed two young adults and was temporarily stopped by a baby, and the whole world needed to be picked up.

And that was a very daunting task for someone who knew he could not allow himself to be given the power to make the changes he thought needed to be made.

* * *

And when it came time for the final battle, the final time the boy would face the evil wizard, more of the story was discovered. Because many threads had weaved together in the tale he had been learning for seven years, but there were still a few that were far too loose.

* * *

Once upon a time, on an island in the sea, in a decent part of a town with two caring parents lived two little girls (and there was a boy nearby). One was pale and tall, and knew she wasn't as pretty as her sister. The other had vivid green eyes, and brilliant red hair, but didn't care what people thought. (He was dark and pale and looked down on, and came from a broken home). The two of them were close, and loved each other. (He watched and wanted what they had). They thought nothing could come between them. (He saw his chance to gain a friend.)

But there was magic.

And the younger girl, who didn't care, had it, and the older girl, who felt inadequate, did not. And nothing could change that. And the older girl felt like everything that had been bright in her life was leaving and would never come back and without it her life was dull. (And he smiled because he had a friend and it was love but maybe not yet but it was beautiful and his father couldn't touch it.)

And the older girl decided that if the brightness had to leave, it wasn't welcome back and nothing could make her change her mind (and oh god did she regret that later when faced with those vivid green eyes but not the bright red hair but she couldn't do anything). And so a rift formed between the two sisters, a rift that neither could heal on their own, but that they were not willing to work on together. (Not yet at least. The green eyed girl figured that after the war there would be time.)

But the green eyed girl still had a friend. And even though they were as different as night and day, she did not care. Not at first. Neither one of them could abide by the young boy raised in light who was spoiled and a bully. And the pale boy had been the brunt of many of the cruel jokes from him. And even when the pale boy was being made fun of, the green eyed girl stood by him.

When the pale boy made friends who looked down on her for the family she was born into, she stood by him. When the pale boy's friends practiced dark magic, and he became fascinated with it, she still stood by him, although she hoped he would see her point of view. But while the green eyed girl was strong, she was not impervious. Each and every disagreement about their views on the world, every time she worried for her friend playing with dangerous magic, every time she saw what his friends did to people like her, a little crack formed.

And when the pale boy was in a moment of weakness, when she was seeing him as he had never wanted her to see him, he did the unforgivable to a young girl. He called her by the insulting name the evil wizard's followers called those born like she was. And though he regretted it, and tried to apologize, the green eyed girl was tired. Tired of standing by him while he turned around and seemed to support everyone who hated her on principle. Tired of watching him waste a life she could see being helpful and useful on seeking revenge and power. Tired of trying to reconcile the younger boy she had met who told her of magic with the young boy in front of her who intended to join a group that would see her dead.

She was tired, and so she told him she did not accept his apology.

And though he turned bitter, and angry, and resented his bully for what he viewed as ill-gotten gains when the two began to date, he still loved her. First love, they say, is unforgettable.

Sometimes, he wished he could forget.

They went their separate ways until the pale boy discovered that the piece of information he had gathered from a meeting between the old wise man and a theatrical part time seer and given to the evil wizard he had wanted to serve had threatened the life of his first love. And he could not, would not, be responsible for that.

And so he went to the wise old man, and begged for him to do something, anything. (He had begged the evil wizard to spare her as well). The wise old man promised, but required something in return. And in the end, everything he did was not enough to spare the green eyed girl turned woman.

And he spent the rest of his life attempting to make right what he could, to try and relieve himself of the burden of guilt he felt from her death. And he was bitter, and angry, and hurt, and manipulated into doing what he did not want to and being in positions he no longer wanted to be in. But he tried. He hoped it would be enough. (He was terrified that it wasn't because all that was left of her needed to die).

* * *

This was the story. This was his story. But the boy didn't have time to understand what he saw, to reconcile everything he knew. He had a battle to fight, and he did not think he would survive. But he was his father and his mother and their (true) friends, and he was not the evil wizard. He would do what he needed to protect the youngest son and the smart young girl, and the only girl in a family of seven, and a lonely moon child, and a brave boy who could have been in his spot, and all the others he had come to love in seven years. (They would say the world, but he knew the truth. It was for those he knew, and thought him a hero because of what he had done after rejoining the world. Not what had happened when he was one.)

But this wasn't his story. It wasn't any one person's story. It was everyone's story, because it was not complete without everything. The story meant little without knowledge of the parents, for otherwise they were just paper thin and unreal. The father's story could not be told without two of his friends, and to speak of just three was wrong when it was four of them who had been a unit. And the father's story as told by his friends was missing the human aspect, he had become larger than life. And so the story of the pale boy threaded in and out of the father's tale, but was essential in telling the story of the mother. And knowledge of why the evil wizard came to be was necessary to see the hope in the boy. And knowledge of the wise old man's faults showed why he knew to watch the evil wizard before he became evil. And for the boy himself, he would not be himself if he had not been raised by his bitter aunt, if the youngest son and the young smart girl did not see him as a hero for his own actions.

This is the story of cycles. Of repeating themes. This is the story of four generations. This is the story of war, of mistakes, of greed and desire for power. This is a story of families, broken and strong, chosen and blood.

But mostly this is a story of choices.

This is a story of choices, and how one can affect everyone. This is a story of struggles, big and small. This is a story of life, a story of death, a story of destruction, a story of rebirth. This is the story of growing up. This is a story of humanity, and fear. Bravery and growth. Lust and love.

This is the story of Albus Dumbledore.

This is the story of Tom Riddle.

This is the story of Severus Snape.

This is the story of Harry Potter.

But

This is the story of James Potter.

This is the story of Lily Evans.

This is the story of Sirius Black.

This is the story of Remus Lupin.

This is the story of Peter Pettigrew.

This is the story of Petunia Evans.

And

This is the story of Ron Weasley.

This is the story of Hermione Granger.

* * *

This is the story of Choice.

So, what will you choose?


End file.
